A Hand On His Shoulder
by ArcheryGirl1101
Summary: My small One-Shot version of "The Six Thatcher's" ending.


**A/N:** Inspired but "I'm Here" by remuslupinlover16

I don't think John should have blamed Sherlock, yes grief is ugly and he didn't know the whole story but John jumped to such conclusions so quickly it felt out of character.

I know he was angry and confused and possibly lost in so many emotions but he took his temper out on the wrong person because I think at this small moment he hated himself for eveything he did wrong and unfortunately Sherlock took the brunt of it.

Not ALL of the blame should have gone to Sherlock. None should have.

 **ALSO** : _"You made a vow"_ Yeah John, so did you. You _married_ the woman - who has now died for your best friend and possibly hers too - and cyber-cheated (Kind of - It _was_ just texting).

* * *

 **A Hand On His Shoulder:**

Sherlock watched in horror was Mary whispered her last words to a devastated John, her head fell and her eyes darkened, she was dead.

John tried getting a response but his efforts were usless. Dropping his own head he let out a scream, it's wasn't an average human noise but after losing someone so close to him before the first time and he couldn't do anything to save the life, once again he had failed. In his mind he had failed as a husband, father, friend and protector.

He could feel Sherlock drawing closer and could see a leathered hand make its way to his shoulder "Don't..." John muttered, Sherlock curled his hand away and back away slightly "Mycroft, Gavin go outside" Sherlock ordered as he watched John rest his head above Mary's staring out to nowhere. They complied, Mycroft linguring and internally wishing Sherlock would follow but he didn't, he stayed put.

Sherlock felt frozen where he stood, he was still in shock about Mary jumping in front of him taking the bullet, that bullet wasn't for her, it was for him yet Mary shielded him from a third death. Unable to process how to grieve just now Sherlock redirected his attention to John, taking a shaky breathe Sherlock kneeled down "John?" No response, "John, we need to go. I'll contact Molly and have her care for Rosie tonight" "Molly's already there," John whispered "OK, let's get you to Baker Street, for once, let me take care of you" John sighed, he didn't move, of course he knew he couldn't do anything but he couldn't leave Mary alone "Paramedics are outside, Graham will show them in once we head out" "She's gone," John was barely heard this time, "I know, I know" Sherlock wanted to tell John what happened but feared a monsterous reaction was about to ignite, moving slightly closer Sherlock reached out his hand, "I'll take care you" Feeling tears on the brink John grasped Sherlock's hand, "OK" Sherlock helped John up and kept his hand on John's feeling it tremble and shake "Take me home, Sherlock" John lowered his gaze to the ground and was slowly led by Sherlock outside.

* * *

Mycroft arranged a car to take them back and few words were spoken at all, Greg pretended to be busy and Mycroft was on his phone, on the way John hadn't said a word and did sit closer to Sherlock, their hands still intertwined. Heading inside the warmth that was Baker Street Mrs Hudson was ready with smiles and cheeriness but those were quickly hidden as her boys returned depressed and no Mary was in sight, she caught a glimpse of blood on John's hand and she knew, slightly humming an wounded noise Mrs Hudson left the two upstairs.

Sherlock guided John to sit on the couch and they sat in complete silence. Sherlock didn't know what to do past this, he was obviously still in shock about the event and Sherlock needed to be strong for his best friend, he spotted the blood on John's hand "We should- I'm going to get the basin and a cloth to wash your hands," Sherlock waited for John to look at him then released his hand. Nodding Sherlock dashed off to retrieve said items and return to John. Placing the basin full of warm water on the coffee table John's head was incased in his hands, his shoulders shaking but no sounds were coming out, John wasn't crying - he was a solider, he wouldn't show weakness. This worried Sherlock to no end, it wasn't healthy for John to do this "John?" Again, no repsonse "John, please" Sherlock knelt down on the next to his friend again, "She's gone..." "I know, I know. I'm here" "You weren't before" John was still whispering, Sherlock understood "I wasn't before, but I will be this time. I promise"

John reverted back to silence as Sherlock wiped away the drying blood on John's small hands, The Detective had never realised the difference in their hands until now "John, I know this will sound wrong but I'm going to take you to my bedroom, you need some rest, with Rosie it looks like you haven't had a decent sleep in weeks" Wiping his eyes John nodded, "She won't be sleeping for a while, babies do grieve unintentionally, it's depressing but you have to deal with it" John mumbled out while be escorted to Sherlock's bedroom, leaning in to Sherlock's back, his best friend shivered in response, "Do you want me to stay?" Nodding against Sherlock's back Sherlock contemplated what else to do, John silently took his shoes off and waited, pulling back the covers Sherlock lightly nudged John forward to say, "You can lie down" without needing to open his mouth. John laid down rubbing his eyes again, Sherlock laid down next to him and wrapped his long skinny limbs around his best friend, "I'm here" John pushed himself up to lean against Sherlock's chest, pulling his own arm around the Detective's slimmer waist "Thank you, Sherlock" "Anything for my Blogger, I'm here for you, like you always were for me" John closed his eyes and fell asleep, Sherlock eventually did the same after the isolated tears for Mary shed over his lashes.

* * *

It would take a long time to overcome the grief and impact of Mary's death. Sherlock knew that, John knew that from experience, Greg knew that too and so did Mycroft. It was up to them to help John pick up the pieces that was his shattering life.

Everyone received a text from Sherlock:

 _'John is resting at Baker Street, we will be helping him and Rosie. I made a promise. SH'_

The raven-haired man didn't care about the responses right now all that mattered was taking care of John and Rosie.

* * *

The funeral was held a short amount of time after, John held Rosie close while she whimpered through the service, standing by his friend, keeping a supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder Sherlock knew it was going to be a long time before anyone was OK again.


End file.
